


in the gaze of strange eyes

by M_Monoceros



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, M/M, Mafiosos, Power Dynamics, Timmy is 19, here we are, no one asked for this And Yet, porn is not my forte but i'm still writing it anyways for some reason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 13:01:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17244689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_Monoceros/pseuds/M_Monoceros
Summary: What did he have to lose?*The NYE Mafiosos prequel that no one asked for. Set three years before the events of the main story.





	in the gaze of strange eyes

**Author's Note:**

> **This won't make much sense if you haven't read[Mafiosos](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14875664/chapters/34445720) first. **
> 
> A couple people have asked very nicely if there would be a Mafiosos holiday special at some point. I don't think this is what you had in mind, but it is what you get for now. I'm sorry. 
> 
> I first started this oneshot back in the summer when I was working on Chapter 7 of Mafiosos, the Timmy POV chapter. I came up with this whole backstory about what their first time was like and it wouldn't leave me alone. After Mafiosos finished I forgot about it for a couple months, but then the real-life Luca [described himself as a voyeur](https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2018/10/15/luca-guadagninos-cinema-of-desire) so what the hell was I supposed to do? 
> 
> Huge shout out to Gina aka cumpeachx for cheering me on and proofreading this, in addition to letting me more or less plagiarize [ her Luca/Timmy ficlet.](http://peaches-n-crema.tumblr.com/post/180781594542/any-chance-you-could-try-your-hand-at-some)
> 
> Title is from [Would You Mind](https://open.spotify.com/track/1Wr9MXE3pH2W4cqu5NSGeL?si=ymYSM0SrS3eTtj_WMCnjyQ) by Friday Pilots Club. 
> 
> Comments give me life, so if you're one of the three (3) people who will actually be excited about this fic, please let me know what you think!
> 
> Happy New Year. ❤️

Timmy pressed his face against the glass, watching his breath fog on the window. The condensation blurred the city lights into watery neon. Or maybe that was the wine he’d drank at the party, or all the cigarettes he’d smoked nervously as they’d eaten and mingled and talked about everything but what Timmy really wanted to talk about more than anything. 

“Nice view,” he said over his shoulder, then immediately cursed himself for making such a boring observation. _The view? Really?_

“Yes, I suppose it is,” Luca replied from the kitchen. Timmy inhaled deeply, trying to steady himself. He felt giddy and on edge, like any minute he was either going to start laughing or crying and he had no idea which. 

In the kitchen behind him, he heard a drawer open and close, followed by the soft _pop_ of a bottle uncorking. He turned to see that there was only one glass on the counter, which Luca proceeded to fill with wine. Timmy watched him take a sip.

“Can I have some?” he asked when Luca set it back on the counter. He meant it half-jokingly, as in, _none for me, huh? Har har,_ but also kind of seriously, because he was only a little bit buzzed and he wasn’t too sure if that was enough for what he wanted to do. 

Luca stared at him for a minute, and Timmy resisted the urge to fiddle with his hair, because he knew he did that too much and Esther said it made him seem antsy. 

“Why not?” Luca said, more to himself than to Timmy. _Why not?_ as in, _we’ve already come this far, why stop now?_ He reached under the counter and pulled out a new glass. 

“Thanks,” Timmy said when Luca walked over and handed it to him. He was still staring, so Timmy took a nervous sip and looked out the window again. He could see the Brooklyn Bridge from here, but he kept that thought to himself this time because he could already hear how lame it would sound out loud. _Fuck._

“Timothée,” Luca said quietly. Timmy swallowed his wine too fast and had to fight back a cough. 

“What?” 

“Do you want me to call you a cab?” 

Timmy’s heart sank. Luca was looking at him like you’d look at a kid who’d tied his shoelaces wrong, which was exactly the opposite of how Timmy wanted Luca to look at him right now. 

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked before he could stop himself, and Luca sighed.

“I want you to be happy. Do _you_ want to leave?” 

“No,” Timmy said quickly. _Too_ quickly, judging by the way Luca quirked an eyebrow. 

“You’re nervous.”

“No I’m not,” Timmy countered, which was a lie, because he was basically always nervous (even if he had been getting better lately). As if to illustrate exactly how _not_ nervous he was, Timmy took another sip of wine. He tried to be a little more casual about it this time, peering at Luca over the rim of his glass. The wine was red, probably vintage, probably expensive. Timmy tried to savour the taste; tart and sweet. Notes of… citrus? Cinnamon? To be honest, it all seemed like a reach. He’d never really gotten a taste for the stuff. 

As he drank, Luca’s expression shifted. Amused, but wary. Definitely not the desired emotion, but better than pity. But he was still so far away—just out of arm’s reach. Timmy took a step, and Luca shifted almost imperceptibly. Didn’t move back, though, which Timmy counted as a win. 

“Do you stay here a lot?” Timmy asked, glancing around the apartment. It was a nice place, but the decor was kind of boring, especially in comparison to Luca’s Manhattan apartment. Not that Timmy had spent a lot of time there either—he’d only been once or twice for meetings or the occasional dinner party. 

“No. Brooklyn is a bit out of the way,” Luca said simply. “But the property is valuable.” 

“So it’s just where you bring your hookups? No, I’m joking,” Timmy added with a nervous laugh. “Or, well. I mean. That would make sense if you did. I’m not… I’m not complaining.” Another gulp of wine. _Get it together,_ he thought furiously to himself. Over two whole years he’d done a pretty good job of the whole _seduction_ thing, and he was not going to fuck it all up now. He ran a hand through his hair in a way he hoped was maybe enticing.

Luca looked like he was holding back a smile. Not offended though; that was positive. But then again, it took a lot to offend Luca. 

Timmy stepped closer. The wine was definitely helping; he could feel it when he moved, but he tried not to let it show because that was probably a turnoff. _Drunk teenager_ wasn’t super sexy. Well, to some people it was sexy, but given how difficult it had been to get Luca to admit this whole thing was even a slight possibility in the first place, Timmy thought Luca probably wasn’t one of those people. Besides, as of four days ago Timmy was only a teenager for another year anyways. 

“You have the most fascinating face,” Luca said, interrupting his thoughts. “Have I ever told you that?”

“Huh?” 

“What are you thinking?” 

“Uh. I don’t—I don’t know. Just. Worrying, mostly.” 

“I can see that. What about?” 

“Not what you think,” Timmy said quickly, because he could already feel Luca pulling back. 

“Oh?”

“Just… Worrying that I’m going to mess this up.”

Luca laughed softly, shaking his head.

“You still don’t trust me, do you?” Timmy pressed. 

“Of course I trust you. You’ve proven yourself many times—”

“In business, maybe, sure. Okay. But I’m not talking about business.” Another step closer, and Luca did falter then; shifted his weight back and away. So maybe it wouldn’t happen after all—Timmy was here, he’d called Luca on his bluff, and even that hadn’t been enough. Suddenly he felt bold. “Why don’t you believe that I want you?” 

Luca’s eyes shone dangerously. “I’m not sure you know what you want.” 

They were so close now that Timmy could feel Luca’s breath on his face. He waited, because he sure as fuck wasn’t going to be the one to close the space between them no matter how much he wanted to. He needed to know that he was right—that Luca wanted this to happen just as much as he did. 

Timmy hadn’t told anyone about Luca, not even Saoirse, even though he’d told her everything else. He hadn’t told anyone because that would be childish, and this wasn’t a childish thing (even though Luca thought so). 

The air between them felt charged and electric and Timmy’s heart was beating a mile a minute. Luca looked just as calm and cool as usual, and for a split second Timmy doubted himself. Maybe he had imagined everything, and Luca was only reacting this way because of how pathetic Timmy looked right now. Then Luca’s eyes flicked to Timmy’s lips. 

“Kiss me,” Timmy said. A gut reaction, but the power of the words coursed through him like a drug, and for a second he thought he’d actually won. But Luca only smiled and lifted his empty wine glass out of his hand. 

Timmy swayed on the spot. He exhaled slowly and ran a hand over his face. He made sure Luca’s back was turned before he adjusted his pants, tucking his erection up into the waistband of his boxers. 

While Luca was in the kitchen, Timmy took the opportunity to look around the apartment. It was hip but classic, with high ceilings and lots of exposed brickwork. Brooklyn chic. Timmy shucked off his jacked and draped it over the back of the couch. The night was cold, but he felt feverish. 

Timmy unbuttoned his collar as he studied the paintings on the wall—bland abstract pieces that, quite frankly, didn’t have a whole lot to offer. Not exactly what he’d expect from the guy who collected furniture decorated with erotic motifs.

“You need some better stuff in here,” Timmy said when he heard Luca’s soft footsteps behind him. He’d put his hands in his pockets somewhere along the way, and he took them out and tried to surreptitiously wipe the sweat from his palms.

“Do you think so?”

Timmy didn’t look at him, just kept walking down the hallway, focusing on the paintings. “Yeah. A friend of mine just had a show—I could hook you up with some tight pieces.”

The bedroom door was open, so Timmy went inside. Luca hung back, leaning on the doorframe. Watching him. 

Timmy walked around the room. It was white and modern like the rest of the place. The bed looked soft, so he patted it. Then he he climbed on top, so that he was standing in the middle of the mattress. He bounced up and down.

“Nice bed.”

Luca was still staring at him, but now he wasn’t bothering to hide his smile. 

“Is it?”

Timmy bounced higher. Luckily the ceilings in here were tall, so he didn’t have to worry about hitting his head. 

“Uh huh.”

“Did you come here to jump on my bed?”

“Nah,” he said breathlessly between bounces. “I just figured, since you already think I’m a kid, i might as well act like one. Right?”

He stretched out a hand to touch the ceiling. The jumping had the added effect of releasing some of the pent up energy sitting coiled in his chest. This was definitely a stupid thing to be doing, but honestly it was making him feel better and what did he have to lose, anyway? Timmy spun around and almost fell. Luca laughed, and suddenly Timmy felt another rush of adrenaline. 

_What did he have to lose?_

In a single movement Timmy jumped down, using the momentum to close the distance between them. He didn’t bother trying to look sexy or seductive or whatever, just squared his shoulders and looked Luca straight in the eye.

“Kiss me,” he said. He was still a little out of breath. 

“Is that really what you want?” 

“Yes.” 

Luca studied him. “This won’t change the way I treat you.”

Timmy blinked. “Are you serious?” He laughed incredulously. “I don’t give a shit about that. I just want… I want to be close to you.” Timmy finished lamely. He huffed in frustration and looked at the ground. “Maybe you’re right, okay? I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know anything. So… Just tell me what to do. Like you do with everything else. I want to do what _you_ want me to. I want… I want to be yours.”

He felt stupid saying it out loud, but it was the truth. And Luca was normally unflappable, but for a split second he looked… troubled. 

“Why?”

“Why do I need a reason?” Timmy countered. He was getting impatient, and it came out angrier than he meant it to. Luca’s expression hardened minutely, and for a second Timmy thought for sure he’d fucked everything up _again._ He stood his ground anyways, meeting Luca’s eyes defiantly. 

“Very well,” Luca said, and Timmy’s heart skipped a beat. Luca leaned in close, and Timmy let his eyes close. But instead of the kiss he’d been waiting for, Luca’s whiskers tickled his ear. “Take off your pants.”

_Whoa._ That was—that was a little fast. “Um,” Timmy said. He felt off balance, unsure whether to laugh or balk. Then the corners of Luca’s mouth twitched. 

This was just another challenge. A _test._ And Timmy had passed Luca’s tests before. 

He took a deep breath; met Luca’s eyes as he undid his belt and unbuttoned his pants. Pushed them to the floor and kicked them away. Timmy tried not to think about how skinny his legs were (He’d been trying to gain weight, but he hadn’t made much progress) or how obvious his erection was, protected only by the thin cotton of his underwear.

“And your shirt.”

Timmy pulled it off without hesitation; let it drop to the floor.

Luca eyed Timmy’s hands, which were clasped over the bulge in his boxers.

“Those, too.”

_Okay, so this was really happening._

Timmy slipped off his boxers and kicked them away, resisting the urge to cover his dick again. Luca’s eyes travelled down his body, taking all of him in, and Timmy’s stomach writhed with uncertainty. He knew he wasn’t _bad_ to look at—he’d always had prospects in the romance department—and sometimes when he looked in the mirror and tilted his head the right way he thought maye had a kind of sleepy avant-garde sex appeal. _Maybe._ Was that narcissistic? Maybe he was just skinny and awkward after all. Maybe Luca had invited him here just to humiliate him. 

“Beautiful,” Luca said quietly, startling Timmy from his spiralling thoughts. He hadn’t said it like a compliment—more like a sigh, almost a whisper. Reverent, the way you might call a painting beautiful after it moved you to tears. Timmy’s cock twitched, and suddenly he didn’t feel naked anymore. So when Luca looked him in the eye and told him to touch himself, Timmy barely hesitated before he closed his hand around himself. The sensation was intense—more intense than he’d ever felt by himself—and he had to bite his lip to keep from gasping. 

“Does this turn you on?” Luca asked.

“Yes.” Timmy wasn’t jerking off like he did when he was alone—he was going slowly, drawing it out, because he knew if he went too fast this wouldn’t last long at all. 

“Do you want me to touch you?” 

Timmy nodded. He wondered how he looked right now—part of him felt awkward as fuck, but the other part of him liked the way Luca was staring at him. He looked _hungry,_ and the mere thought that Luca might actually _want_ him at all almost tipped Timmy over the edge. 

“Stop,” Luca said, and Timmy’s hand froze abruptly, almost of its own free will. He was breathing hard but so was Luca, and Timmy knew there was no going back now. He’d already won: Luca couldn’t pretend he was doing this as some fucking favour anymore. Timmy felt a heady rush of satisfaction. 

“In the drawer,” Luca said, and pointed to the small nightstand by the bed. 

Timmy’s heart skipped a beat, but he turned and walked over without hesitation. The drawer was filled with exactly what Timmy had expected—condoms, a bottle of lube, and a few colourful object that were _definitely_ sex toys. Nothing crazy huge, though, which seemed doable. 

“What do you want me to use?” he asked over his shoulder. He tried to sound casual, like this was a totally normal, everyday occurrence. 

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“So…” He held up the lube and looked questioningly back at Luca, who nodded. 

“On the bed.”

Timmy sat down and looked up at Luca through his eyelashes in that way he’d practiced in front of the mirror. He dripped a bit of the lube into his hand and rubbed his fingers together; wrapped them around his cock again and tried not to groan at how good the slickness felt. He eased himself onto his back and stared at the shadows on the ceiling as he thrust up into his own fist. He could still see Luca in his peripheral vision, leaning against the wall, one finger tracing his lips thoughtfully. 

Timmy moved his hand lower to play with his balls, then lower, teasing his hole. He made his voice husky and tried to angle himself in a way he knew would look good. _Sexy._ “Is this what you want?” Timmy asked as he dipped inside of himself. 

Luca’s eyes flashed. “Insincerity does not suit you.” 

Timmy stopped. “What?” He sat up on his elbows and blew a stray curl off of his face. 

_“Is this what you want,”_ Luca mimicked. “Is that your impression of of an adult film star?” 

Timmy could feel his face getting hotter, a flush creeping up his neck. “No,” he muttered defiantly. He was sitting with his ass almost at the edge of the bed, and when Luca stepped closer he resisted the urge to close his legs. His cock was painfully hard, leaking where it rested on his stomach. 

“You’re putting on a show. Why? You don’t need to.” 

“Don’t I?” Timmy shot back. 

“What do you think draws me to you?” Luca asked. “All your careful glances? Calculated expressions?” He waved a delicate hand. “These things are endearing only in their fumbling naiveté.”

“I—”

“Your deliberate seduction is far less alluring than you think.”

Well, that seemed unnecessarily cruel. 

Suddenly Timmy felt stupid, like all the wind had been knocked out of him. He swallowed the lump in his throat; opened his mouth, then closed it again. His cheeks were burning—his whole body felt flushed and hot; prickly with embarrassment and unsatiated need. He looked over Luca’s shoulder and fixed his eyes on a painting on the wall—boring, abstract, blurry thanks to the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. 

“Then what is?” he asked. 

“Everything else,” Luca said simply. “Show me who you are when no one is watching.” His eyes burned into Timmy, daring him, and Timmy didn’t look away because how could he ever back down from a challenge like that? 

So he laid back again and closed his eyes. He didn’t think about anyone else watching him, just let his mind go blank. Focused on the thick cotton sheets under him, the water in the pipes that he could hear through the walls. Let it all fade into static noise as he ran a hand down his chest, down his stomach, feeling the familiar dips and curves of his body. His own arousal was arousing, a feedback loop folding in on itself. 

The lube on his cock was tacky, so he brought a hand to his mouth and sucked on his fingers absently until they were dripping. He gripped his cock and started moving again. When the sensation got to be too much he reached down and slipped a finger into himself, alternating between jerking himself and fucking himself. His other hand he let wander up, up, to his throat. He imagined, as he often did, that this hand belonged to someone else, and even though the knowledge of Luca’s presence had faded into the background he could still hear Luca breathing. He imagined the sound was closer, all around him—imagined it was Luca’s hand on him, inside him, around his neck instead of his own until he was gasping, muttering things under his breath that he didn’t have time to filter as the pressure inside of him built and built, threatening to spill over—

_“Arresto,”_ Luca said, pulling Timmy back to the present moment all in a rush. 

His eyes snapped open. Luca was breathing hard, looking at Timmy with open desire so plain it made his chest ache. He was closer, too, and as Timmy watched he reached out and laid a soft hand on Timmy’s knee. The touch was like fire. 

“Timothée…”

Before he could say anything Timmy surged upright and pulled Luca in for a bruising kiss. 

And for all his careful reticence before, nothing about Luca was hesitant now. Timmy barely had time to register what was happening before Luca’s fingers were inside him and the fantasy was real and _fuck fuck fuck,_ he refused to come this fucking easily even it felt like Luca was taking him apart from the inside out. And Timmy had never kissed anyone with a beard before so that was a new sensation he hadn’t accounted for. Luca’s free hand moved to Timmy’s throat, his long fingers ghosting the spot where Timmy had held himself only moments before. 

Timmy gasped and fumbled with Luca’s buttons until Luca got the idea and stripped off his jacket, then, at Timmy’s insistence, his shirt. And all the while Luca’s fingers were inside him and around him intermittently, undoing him slowly. 

Luca chuckled softly when Timmy ran his hands up Luca’s sides just _because,_ just to feel skin against skin. 

“Don’t laugh at me,” Timmy mumbled. Luca laughed anyways and then kissed him again; pressed him back onto the bed and pushed his legs apart. 

Luca undid his pants and Timmy’s breath caught when he saw how hard Luca was—another reminder that this wasn’t all in Timmy’s head after all; this was happening because _Luca_ wanted it to happen. 

And fuck, it was happening fast. _Wait,_ Timmy almost said when Luca replaced his fingers with his cock—not because he was afraid but because he didn’t want this to end—but he held his tongue and then Luca was inside him for real. 

Timmy bit back a moan as waves of mingled pleasure and pain washed over him; a dull kind of ache that turned his stomach. He clutched Luca close until it faded, blurred into something heavy and searing hot; a feeling that demanded _more._

And Luca gave him more: he pressed Timmy’s legs back against his chest and fucked him hard, until Timmy’s whole body was wound tight with the need for _release._ But _fuck_ , he couldn’t come yet… 

“Wait wait wait,” Timmy said breathlessly. He shivered when Luca stopped. His eyes looked black, shining in the diffused glow of the overhead light. “Let me…” Timmy wriggled his hips a little bit, and Luca seemed get the idea because he drew back, lifted him and rolled over in one smooth movement so that Timmy was on top. It was an impressive feat considering how tall and awkward Timmy was ( _All legs and arms,_ Saoirse was fond of saying. And Luca was tall and gangly too, but he always held himself with such careful precision in a way that Timmy hadn’t quite mastered yet.)

Timmy blinked for a second, momentarily dizzy. Then Luca gripped him by the hips and started to move him, guiding Timmy up and down on his cock. 

“Oh _fuck,”_ Timmy breathed. He felt like he was going to explode. 

“Do you want me to touch you?” Luca asked for the second time, his voice ragged and demanding in a way that made Timmy’s cock throb. 

Timmy nodded furiously. “Yes. Yes, please.” His hips twitched desperately, trying to match Luca’s rhythm. He wasn’t going to last much longer like this. 

“Do you really want to be mine?” 

Timmy shuddered. He nodded again, because he was having a hard time speaking. And maybe Luca believed him now, because he finally wrapped a hand around Timmy’s cock, and it only took a few pumps before Timmy came _way_ too fucking fast. _“Shit shit shit,”_ he hissed, hips rolling aggressively over the hard cock inside him.

“Come here,” Luca ordered, so Timmy lurched down and kissed him as the aftershocks of his orgasm rippled over him. Everything ached but Luca kept going, kept thrusting up into him, picking up speed as Timmy gasped into his mouth. Then he finished too, and all Timmy could say was _“Thank you”_ as Luca fucked him. Came inside him. 

They both slowed, then stilled. Luca laughed and tucked a stray curl behind Timmy’s ear.

*

“Beautiful.”

Timmy turned to find Luca watching him. He took the wine Luca offered him gratefully. Maybe it was the evening, or Luca, or sea of lights outside, but Timmy found he actually kind of liked the taste tonight. He looked back out over the city. “Fireworks are starting. Shouldn’t we be drinking champagne?” 

“I think the time for worrying about _shoulds_ and _shouldn’ts_ has passed. Wouldn’t you say?” 

Timmy shrugged. They were both half dressed, and Luca was watching the city now and not him. He didn’t seem mad or regretful or anything, which was a good sign. He seemed… well, happy. 

Luca looked back at him then, and Timmy jumped. “Sorry,” he said hastily, averting his eyes. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” 

“I don’t?” 

Luca sipped his wine. “Do you feel that this was a mistake?” 

Outside, colours burst in the part of the sky Timmy knew belonged to Manhattan. “Fuck no,” he said, and Luca smiled. 

“I’m glad.”

“Do you?”

Luca tapped a long finger on the stem of his wine glass. “I have not quite decided. Do you like this apartment?”

The question caught Timmy off guard. “What? Why?” 

Luca shrugged. 

“I mean,” Timmy said slowly. “It could use some work, but… Yeah. It’s not bad. Nice area, too.” 

“Stay here, then.”

_“What?”_

“You’re still living with Angelo and his family, yes? Esther and Louis.”

“Yeah...” 

“And how is that?” 

“Fine, I guess.” 

“But crowded, I would imagine; not much privacy? You’re right—you are an adult now. So, stay here. Fix it up,” Luca insisted. He waved a hand at the walls. “Decorate; make it your own. I would like to have you here, where we can have more privacy. For business, and for… personal matters.” 

Timmy let out a long breath. “Wow. Okay. Uhm… _Yeah._ Yeah, okay.” He glanced around the space again, trying to imagine everything it could be. The potential made him giddy—god, he couldn’t wait to tell Sersh. But—shit. Tell her _what?_ What would he say about Luca? Timmy had been so afraid to jinx this that he’d never even _thought_ about what life would look like now that he’d actually gotten what he wanted. Would he and Luca _go places_ together? Be _seen?_ And nevermind Sersh—what would the rest of the family think? They couldn’t keep this a secret forever, especially not with Timmy living here. Not that he wanted to keep it a secret in the first place… Timmy closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He’d worry about those problems later. 

The fireworks had reached their climax—red, white, blue, sparkling gold. Not just over Manhattan, but Liberty Island too, and a bunch of points in between. Probably places that belonged to rich people with penthouse suites and rooftop access. And maybe Timmy wasn’t that rich _yet,_ but at least now he had his own apartment. And now he had Luca, too.

Outside, the last traces of gold rose into the sky and fizzled into nothing. 

_“Buon Anno,"_ Luca said quietly. 

_“Buon Anno,"_ Timmy echoed, then kissed him, for no other reason than because he really, really wanted to. 

**Author's Note:**

> :') 
> 
> [Tumblr](http://peaches-n-crema.tumblr.com/)


End file.
